


i put that record on just to make a sound

by sapoeysap



Category: Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Power Rangers
Genre: Angst, M/M, So much angst, mild swearing so i tagged it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14571594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapoeysap/pseuds/sapoeysap
Summary: blue for bubblegum,blue for the way he feelsblue for billy, billy, billy





	i put that record on just to make a sound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gambitsgeekyprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gambitsgeekyprincess/gifts).



> sorry i dreamed up a continuation and so i guess here's a sequel
> 
> sorry i'm emo??? no seriously this is like more angst. 
> 
> this is like half based off real life and some shows i've been too and like just that feeling off loosing yourself for a second and then that headspace afterwards. i just love Skull okay.
> 
> u will need to read
> 
> [lend me this favour?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647432)

The entire plan is that he gets on a train and never looks back. Except the train’s reverberating around his head and as his eyes dart around the carriage they catch on to everything coloured blue. Blue for the bubble-gum he chews, Blue for the way his brain and heart feel on the inside, blue for Billy, Billy, Billy.

The bubble-gum ends up on the bottom of the chair, spat out and tucked under the plastic seat of the carriage. It’s the last stick of the last pack he shared with Billy before things were bad. Before Billy had suddenly turned cold. Turned away from him and their stupid damn fake relationship that he regrets ever starting. If he had known his feelings where gonna get this caught up in it.

The train has barely made it out of Stone Canyon before Skull’s getting off. It’s a slow train, and It’s not like he had a ticket anyways. So he jumps out at the canyon that connects Angel Grove and Stone Canyon. Gravel shards in his hands compare nothing to the whirlwind in his mind. There is only a point to how long you can play pretend. He’s not dumb, not in the way everyone say’s he is. Especially not when he has Billy.

‘Pretend’, it rattles around in his brain. It’s what got the both of them into this mess. Bet Billy feels nothing at all though, smarmy group of friends to protect him from everything, jug him. Make him feel okay. All he’s got is Bulk, and it’s not like a hug is ever going to come from that. If Skull could rip his heart out, and leave it dust covered and oozing blood by the side of the train tracks, he would. Even if it meant ending himself. The song snaps over in his headphones, jarring guitars go into something soft. Anger into love. It’s probably the fastest he’s ever moved, just to unlock his phone and change songs- change album into something faster, more distracted, less about love and anger and more about fun and escapism.

The thing is, he didn’t even want to make Kim jealous. It was a convoluted dumb, oh so dumb, plan to make up to Billy for all the years of bullying. Because Billy had done nothing back and all of them, all of Billy’s friends were perfect and kind and loving and so what if Skull wanted in on that. Bulk is nice enough when he’s not dragging Skull along by the ear.

And then Billy turned out to be more than the smart quiet nerd. So who could blame Skull for falling in love? (apart from himself)

The edge of the quarry, the return back to civilisation hovers In the distance, like a mirage. Before he knows it he’s there, stepping back onto paved roads, the distance covered in guitars and bass. There’s a fuel station near enough, one that he can duck inside. Get some bubble-gum, not blue, but cherry-red. Buy it for once instead of snagging it from the shelves. And a bottle of soda, generic, to match the cents he has left in his pocket. The cashier seems out of it, staring off past the road outside and the quarry beyond that, eyes lifeless as he scans the items through and reads off the cost. Skull hands the coins over, and heads out.

There’s a lamppost, multitudes of coloured posters for gigs taped to it, some sun bleached, but some new, tape fresh. He snags the freshest one, some band he’s never heard off but in a venue he knows is good and is all ages.

He looses himself in shitty punk for a night. Safety pins snagging against other safety pins in a pit that’s crazy and not worthy of the band that’s playing. For a blissful two hours, instead of a broken heart all he’s got is ringing ears and bruises on his arms.

The walk home just has to mysteriously take him past the Cranston residence. Sticks of gum don’t sound as good bouncing off the windows as stones do, but it’s obviously enough to get someone’s attention, judging by the way the windows opening. The worst thing is the way Billy’s face lights up when he sees Skull, like he is so unaware of the thoughts burning through Skull’s head. Like just because they’ve kept walking home every day after school and kept the conversation up. That that means everything’s okay. When it isn’t not for Skull. Not nearly okay.

Billy’s smile turns quizzical because Skull can’t force any words out, can barely hear anything over the ringing in his ears, he just wants to run away but his feet are rooted to the spot. Billy’s disappearing from the window, back fading into the black of his bedroom.

Skull should go. He knows he should, the stupid fake leather on his jacket creaks and peels as he scratches his head, his skin shivers as Billy catches his arm on the way down. Skull wishes he hadn’t looked at Billy. In soft blue button up pyjamas and an inquisitive smile. Skull most definitely is in love with a giant dork.

“You know it’s gone two am?”

“I’m sorry”, is the first thing Skull manages.

“Just this once, it might be okay” is all Billy replies as he slots there hands together. One soft, one sweaty. Billy walks them into the house, no questions asked. Pushing them into the living room, grabbing a blanket off the arm of the sofa, rearranging the pillows into a rudimentary bed.

“Skull do you want a set of pyjamas?”

“Nah I’ll just slum it in my boxers”, it’s the first full sentence Skull manages, and he’s slept in worst conditions than the immaculate Cranston living room. He just strips his sweat stained clothing off as Billy mutters an “um… I’ll just grab some water”.

By the time Billy gets back with the water, Skulls under the blankets, clothes folded in a chair. Skull folded them poorly, but it was a conscious effort on his part.

“Talk in the morning okay”, Billy gently pushes a kiss into Skull’s hairline, and even though Skull closes his eyes as Billy leaves. He doesn’t fall asleep, not until the sun is coming up and leaking through the window blinds and he’s tossed and turned so much he’s fallen onto the floor.

 

It smells of coffee and disinfectant. Sunlight is streaming through into the room. Instead of the carpet floor to support his head, there’s still a sofa under him, covers tucking him in tightly. A mug steams away on the table in front of him. The house is silent, so Skull re-asses and re-dresses. As he pulls his jeans on he notices a bruise blooming on his thigh, and his favourite vest, the one with the question marks, has lost a few safety pins and gained a new hole. The ringing in his ears has stopped though, but his throat feels like sandpaper. 

Billy is nowhere to be seen, so he grabs the coffee mug and makes his way through the house, up to Billy’s room, which the moment he climbs the stairs he realises is redundant, Billy will be in the makeshift lab, so instead he heads down into the basement.

Unfair really, how handsome Billy looks, hair un-styled and foppish, slicked back not by gel but by a pair of safety googles. Glasses slipping down his nose. In a dark blue coverall, sleeves rolled up and accentuating the muscles built up through gymnastics.

The I love you, slips out and off Skull’s tongue without any brain filter. No braying laughter can be conjured up to cover up how heartfelt it sounds to his own ears.

“Oh”

 

They talk for a while. Skull all words and snorts to Billy’s shyness and composition.

And Monday morning when they walk back into Angel Grove High hand in hand, the cheers and claps block out all the doubts Skull had left in his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from The Bouncing Souls - That Song (the album how i spent my summer vacation was a big inspiration to this, as was Screaming Females - All at Once and the latter half off Fall Out Boy's - From under the Cork Tree, on which the lyrics to music or the misery was the first kind of nugget of inspiration to how this fic started.


End file.
